


Beggar's Day

by LeoArcana



Series: Prompts [23]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Come Eating, Drunk Castiel, Drunk Sex, Dubious Consent, Episode: s09e09 Holy Terror, Frottage, Grinding, M/M, Non-Penetrative Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-23 17:30:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8336554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeoArcana/pseuds/LeoArcana
Summary: Sam and Dean had left Castiel at the bar to continue investigating the massacre between the Melody Ministry Glee Club and the gang of bikers.  Castiel had decided to stay at the bar a little while longer, perhaps try a few of Dean's favorite beers.  After a few, he gets to thinking about the night Dean had come found him in Rexford and gets an idea...





	

“You sure this is where you wanna go?” the cab driver asked, “This is just an access road, there’s no houses or apartments here…”

“I’m v’sure,” Castiel slurred.

He fumbled at the door handle before managing to get a grip on it and pull it back as he leaned against the door to push it open.  He barely caught himself, tightening his grip on the door and stopping himself from eating gravel.  Castiel used the door to steady himself and get to his feet, taking a deep breath.  He reached in his pocket and fished around for remained of the money Dean had given him before leaving the bar.  He started to count it, but in the dark of the night and his current state, they all looked the same.  He leaned back in the cab, nearly falling on the seat, and handed the driver all of the money.

The cab driver straightened the bills and counted them.  Castiel was short, but he didn’t push for it; he was only off by a couple dollars.  He asked Castiel one more time if he was sure this was where he wanted to be and Castiel waved him off, saying his friends lived just down the road.  The cab driver studied him in confusion for a moment before shrugging.  If he wanted to wander around an access road looking for ‘his friends’, he couldn’t stop him.  He looked at Castiel one more as he slammed the door and almost lost his balance; if he was on the news later, he wanted to be able to recognize him.

Castiel stumbled in place as the driver left him.  He waited until the car was out of sight before adjusting himself and spinning on his heels, and very nearly losing his balance, and walking down the gravel road.  The gravel crunched under his feet in uneven time, occasionally skittering ahead of him when he failed to pick his foot up enough.

Luckily for him, it was cloudless night and the moon shown bright enough for him to see where he was going.  Up ahead, the outline of the bunker’s concrete entrance in the hillside took on a soft glow as he came closer; the metal railings shining around it.

He stopped and swayed at the top of the stairs, waiting for the ground to stop tipping side to side.  He thought for a minute that maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.  Not just trying to go down the concrete steps or the staircase just inside the door, but coming here in the first place.  Dean had always been willing to help with his problems and Castiel had two of them at the moment; his drunken state and unwavering arousal that had been slowly building since his third beer.

Admittedly, the latter had been sparked by the memory of Dean coming to help him with the Rit Zien case in Idaho.  He’d started thinking about that night, remembering the look on Dean’s face when he found out he was going on a date, the look on his face as he advised him to lose the vest and unbutton his shirt and his awkward leaving.  After killing Ephraim and taking care of their wounds, the rest of the night had felt on the edge of something more.  Neither of them acted on it and Castiel sometimes kicked himself for it.  He knew Dean wouldn’t make the first move, fear stopped him.  It stopped him every time and he kept his desires to himself, sometimes forgetting the now ex-angel could sense longing and mention of his name initiated a prayer.

Dean would help him, Castiel reassured himself.

He took a deep breath and steadied himself with the railing.  He made his way slowly down the stairs and staggered up to the door.  He tried to open it, but unsurprisingly, it was locked.  He tried the handle a few more times, as if somehow it would unlock itself, then let his hand fall to his side with an exaggerated groan.  He’d wanted this to be something of a surprise.  Well, it still would be, he supposed.  Castiel fished his phone out of his pocket and fumbled it in his hands.  He managed to unlock it after two tries and opened a new text message.

_daen, are you in teh bunnker?_

He stared at his phone until it pinged with a new message.

_Yeah, why?  What’s up?_

_will yuo let me in?_

There was no response this time, but a minute later, Castiel heard muffled, heavy footsteps on the other side of the door.  The lock clicked and the door groaned open and Dean stood in the doorway.

“Typos, man?  That’s not like you,” Dean commented.

“I… ‘had a few’ after you and Sam left,” Castiel replied.

“Well, that explains it,” Dean smirked.

He pushed the door further open and stepped aside to let Castiel in.  Castiel straightened up and focused on controlling his movements and balance; he didn’t want Dean to think he was too drunk.

However, that plan failed when he slipped on the first stair.  His legs crumpled under him and his arms flailed in a desperate attempt to catch the railing.  One hand found the metal, the other arm was caught in Dean’s hands, leaving him sitting awkwardly on the stairs with both arms stretched out.

“Jesus, Cas!” Dean hauled him up, “How many is a few?  You okay?”

“Generally speaking, a few is two to four,” Castiel answered dryly.

Dean pursed his lips at the joke.

“And I am okay, though I could be better,” Castiel admitted.

“No shit.  How’d you get here?”

“I took a cab,” Castiel stated.

“Why didn’t you just get a motel?”

“Well, for one, I find the sheets unpleasant.  Second, I needed your help…”

Castiel’s words trailed off as they left his mouth.  This already wasn’t going as well as he’d imagined it and he was sure he’d planned something better to say.

Rather than further explain anything, Castiel started down the stairs again.  He kept his eyes on where he was stepping, leaving Dean confused and suspicious at the top.  Castiel missed another step, spurring Dean to hurry down after him, but he recovered himself better this time.  Dean was right behind him to the bottom of the stairs.

“You wanna tell me what you need help with?” Dean prompted.

Castiel chewed his lip between his teeth, trying to remember what it was he had planned to say to Dean.  He became too lost in thought trying to remember what it was and hardly noticed as Dean had started leading him through the bunker.  He started trying to think of something else to say when Dean’s words had started to reach him.  Dean was taking him to his room; yes, that was good.  Maybe he didn’t need to say anything, maybe he’d noticed his problem.  It was beginning to show at this point after all.  Castiel couldn’t help the blush that spread over his cheeks.

Dean mentioned Advil and water and Castiel furrowed his brows, wondering why he’d bring up medicine.  Then it dawned on him that Dean was planning to just put him to bed, give him Advil and water to hopefully stave off a hangover.  That wasn’t what he wanted, not right now; though the thought was distantly appreciated.

Dean let go of Castiel once they crossed the threshold of his bedroom door.  Dean went about collecting various books of lore and magic up off his bed, piling them on the nightstand for later.  Castiel frowned and leaned against the doorframe as Dean worked.

When he came over to lead Castiel to lay down, Castiel intentionally let himself fall on Dean.  Dean made a noise of surprise at the dead weight and hefted him up to his feet.  He made no move to stand him on his own and instead took the opportunity to press himself up against Dean.

“Dean, do you remember when you asked me to ‘lose the vest’ and unbutton my shirt?”

“Y-yeah,” Dean swallowed.

“What would you say now?”

“What?”

“What would you say now?” Castiel repeated, “Would you ask me to lose the coat?”

Castiel pushed himself back to shrug the blazer off and Dean worked his mouth uselessly.

“Unbutton my shir-irt again?” Castiel hiccuped.

He struggled with the small buttons and only undid two of them. 

“Isn’t that where we left off?”

Dean nodded meekly.  Castiel swayed in place and waited for Dean to give him further instruction.  He only stared at Castiel, dumbstruck by his behavior.  Castiel rolled his eyes and pushed at Dean’s chest, making him stagger back a few steps. 

“Cas, what’re you— are you trying to seduce me?”

“I would say I am seducing you,” Castiel hummed.

Castiel closed the space between them and pushed at him again, this time getting Dean to bump into the edge of his bed and fall back.

“So, what, you’re drunk and— and horny?  Is this a booty call?”

“I never called you,” Castiel pointed out.

Castiel put one knee on the bed beside Dean and threw his arms around Dean’s neck.

“Why didn’t you just go home with some chick at the bar?” Dean asked.

“I didn’t want to,” Castiel answered, “None of them were as appealing.  You’re my only hope.”

Castiel dropped his head to Dean’s shoulder and giggled.  Dean narrowed his eyes at the space ahead of him.

“Did you just make a reference?”

“I believe so.”

“Still not doing you— _“_

Dean grimaced at his own words.  He never would’ve thought he’d ever say them, not to Castiel.

“ _Please,_ ” Castiel whined.

“Ask me when you’re sober,” Dean bit.

“I am sober,” Castiel lied, “I have been for several minutes now.”

Dean snapped his head up and eyed Castiel.  Castiel swallowed nervously; he was still drunk, but not as bad as he had been when he got to the bunker.  He wasn’t slurring his words anymore and his balance was better, but he was still drunk enough to keep going with this plan sans embarrassment.

“Dean, I am sober,” Castiel reaffirmed, “And I want this.  I have for some time.”

Dean drew in a ragged breath and held it for moment.

“…And what is ‘this’?” Dean asked.

Castiel grinned lazily and relaxed.  He slid his hand down the front of Dean’s shirt to his belt and tangled his fingers around the belt buckle. 

“I want you,” Castiel murmured.

The metal of the buckle clacked faintly as Castiel undid his belt and the leather slid through the buckle.  He unsnapped Dean’s pants and slipped his hand in and cupped Dean’s cock.

“I know you want me too,” Castiel breathed, “I’ve heard every time you called my name… _everytime.”_

Castiel palmed at him, humming as he felt Dean start to get hard.  Dean closed his eyes and tipped his head back with a moan.  His breathing hitched when Castiel slipped in fingers through the opening of his boxers and curled his fingers around his half hard cock.  Castiel had enough semblance of mind to be gentle as his rough fingers pumped Dean’s cock.

Castiel carded the fingers of his free hand through Dean’s hair and pulled his head forward to capture his mouth in a rough kiss.  Dean hooked his hand behind Castiel’s knee and moved his leg up to the side, forcing him to straddle him.  Castiel shifted forward a bit and rolled his hips, grinding against his hand and Dean’s cock.  Dean whimpered beneath him and grabbed his hips, stilling his movements.  Castiel grumbled in annoyance and let go of Dean’s cock to bat his hands away.

He moved his hands from Castiel’s hips in favor of unbuttoning the rest of Castiel’s shirt.  He pushed the fabric back and splayed his hands over his chest, then smoothed them down to rest on his waist.

“Dean, I need more…” Castiel whined.

Dean growled lightly and deftly undid Castiel’s belt, sliding it out from his pant loops and tossing it aside.  He undid Castiel’s pants and hooked fingers inside, tugging at them impatiently.  Castiel rose up just enough for Dean to slide his pants down past his ass.  Castiel settled back down on his lap and went to start grinding on him again, but Dean once again stopped his movements. 

Castiel gritted his teeth in annoyance and curled his fingers in Dean’s hair tighter.  Dean braced one hand on his lower back and the other behind his knee again.  He surged up and turned them around, practically dropping Castiel on his back and laying over him.  Dean wedged his hands under his shoulders, curling his fingers around them and pressing hard enough to leave little bruises later. 

Castiel tried to bring his legs up to wrap around Dean’s waist, but his pants stopped him.  Castiel groaned in frustration and pushed at the offending fabric as best he could; Dean shifted his weight to give him more room.  Castiel was only able to get one leg free of his pants, but it was enough.  He pushed Dean’s pants further down and Dean grinned against his skin.  He rolled his hips down and relished the moan Castiel gave.

“ _Please…_ ” Castiel breathed.

Castiel moved his hand to grab at Dean’s boxers.  Dean growled and grabbed his hand, then pinned it up above his head.

“ _Dean,”_ Castiel whined, “Please, I need more— I need you to fuck me—”

Dean settled himself more comfortably between Castiel’s legs and ground down on him.  Castiel strained his arm in Dean’s hold with a whine.  He started to move his other hand, belatedly realizing it was free, but stopped when Dean flashed him a warning look.  Castiel muttered another plea, thrusting his hips up to meet Dean’s.

No matter how much Castiel whined and begged for Dean for fuck him, he ignored him.  He kept up an agonizing pace of rolling his hips, rubbing their cocks together.  It wasn’t enough and Castiel squirmed and pleaded beneath, begging Dean to fill him up.  Dean continued to deny him, only occasionally moving his hips to the side, briefly increasing the friction and pressure. 

Castiel whimpered and brought his hand away from Dean’s hair, despite the silent warning not to.  His hand found its way into the opening of Dean’s boxers again.  He wrapped his fingers around Dean’s cock and pulled it out through the opening, then moving to free his own erection from his boxers.  He took both of them in his hand, giving Dean something to thrust into and giving himself more friction.  Dean slowed his pace a bit, but only long enough for their mixing precum to slick Castiel’s hand and their cocks.

Dean relaxed his hold on Castiel’s hand as he panted against his neck.  He nuzzled against him, slowing the movement of his hips.  He pressed open kisses along Castiel’s neck, working his way up and along his jaw.  He moved back, rubbing his face to the side of Castiel’s and nipped at his ear.  Castiel shuddered and moaned beneath him.  Pleas began falling from his lips again, but Dean continued to ignore them.

Castiel keened and bucked his hips up at the same moment Dean grunted and gritted his teeth as both of them came over Castiel’s hand.  Dean gave a few aborted thrusts before Castiel’s hand fell away.  He let his hand fall down over the side of the bed, but Dean curled his fingers around his wrist and brought his hand back up to his face.  He kissed the back of Castiel’s hand just before darting his tongue out to lick away the cum stuck to his skin.

Castiel whimpered, his cock giving one last valiant twitch and dribbling a little more cum.  He weakly twisted his hand around in an effort to cup Dean’s face as he stared up at him with hooded, sleepy eyes.  Dean kissed his hand and guided it to rest over his chest.  Castiel pouted lightly, but lacked the energy to protest beyond a hum. 

Dean dropped his head to rest a minute on Castiel’s shoulder and breathed deeply until his breathing evened out.  He sucked in a breath and pushed himself up, hissing lightly as the cool air raced over the mess between them.  He got to his feet awkwardly, stumbling a bit with the aftershocks, and made his way to the bathroom.  He grabbed a rag and ran it under warm water and cleaned himself, tucking himself away and rinsed it beneath warm water, then went back to his bed.

Despite his earlier enthusiasm, Castiel was sound asleep on his bed already.  Dean snorted to himself and shook his head.

“Sober, my ass…” Dean muttered.

He gingerly cleaned Castiel and tossed the rag aside, fixing Castiel and rebuttoning his pants.  He moved down Castiel’s body and pulled his shoes off, dropping them on the floor.  Dean dressed down himself to a single layer and crawled up beside Castiel. 

**Author's Note:**

> ahaha this has only been sitting in my askbox for like 3 weeks now but i finally got a new laptop and can get back to work on prompts!  
> prompt: Prompt for a fic if you don't mind: Human!Cas finds his way to the bunker, drunk off his ass and horny out of his mind, and practically begs dean to fuck him.  
> [send prompts here!](http://leo-arcana.tumblr.com/ask)


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